


Steal Some Covers

by Rachael Sabotini (wickedwords)



Category: Highlander: The Raven, Highlander: The Series, Leverage
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, Crossover, F/F, Female Protagonist, Femslash, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-17
Updated: 2009-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-02 18:11:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedwords/pseuds/Rachael%20Sabotini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amanda Darieux was a legend, a rock star among theives, and Parker wanted to meet her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steal Some Covers

Parker leaned against the railing as she scanned the room, tray of glasses drooping slightly in her hands. There wasn't anything worth stealing here. Maybe she should go out and give the drinks to people, but man, she was bored, so bored, with being the professional server on the team. She never should have agreed to get her food worker's card when Nate brought it up that first time.

 

"I think we have a problem." Sophie's voice settled softly in Parker's ear, something that never failed to make Parker's toes curl just a bit. She was lucky she had such good balance.

 

"Someone or something?" Nate's voice over the earbud wasn't as nice, and sometimes he reminded Parker of her third foster father, the one that drank too much. She really couldn't see how his voice would ever make anyone's toes curl when he sounded like that.

 

"...Someone." Parker could practically feel Sophie's hesitation, which was weird, because normally interpersonal crap like that passed her right by. Sophie had to be working it up for the dramatic reveal.

 

"Sophie?"

 

"It seems we're not the only one interested in the Justine collection. Amanda Darieux is here."

 

Parker almost dropped her tray, and suddenly she couldn't breathe. Amanda Darieux was a _legend_, not much more than a ghost these days. There were hints and rumors sure, but nothing solid; she'd been on Interpol's most wanted list for years, until she had finally fallen off about…ten years ago? Maybe twelve. If Amanda Darieux was here, then Parker was going to figure out a way to meet her. "You sure?" she asked.

 

"I spent a night handcuffed to banister because of her. It's not something I would forget," Sophie said.

 

"Crap." Parker could practically hear Nate thinking, his mind slotting pieces into place. "We'll need a distraction. Eliot--"

 

"Going off audio." Before he could finish his thought, Parker ripped off her earbud and dropped it on the drinks tray. As she passed by the fireplace room, she waved at Eliot, who was looking very red in the face. She hoped he wasn't choking or something. Shoving at her hair and straightening her collar, she headed for where Sophie was supposed to be, her heart hammering. Her nipples felt hard, and her skin prickled with goosebumps; she still couldn't believe it.

 

She had lain awake in several foster homes, thinking about Amanda Darieux and her work, from the Shepherd's Cross to the Valyard Ruby, playing them over and over in her mind until she knew exactly what she would do differently, and what she would keep the same. The step-by-step analysis of each job calmed her down, helped her to sleep at night.

 

Hell, she still found planning a new job the best way to cure her insomnia, and an all-around boredom buster. Parker figured she owed Darieux for that, in some way that she really couldn't quite figure out. It was just...Amanda's example helped make her a thief.

 

She skipped a little, causing the glasses on the tray to clink together, spilling the cheap champagne, which she ignored . She couldn't wait.

 

###

 

 

"Okay, which one is she?" Parker shoved her tray up against Sophie's shoulder, offering her a drink as an excuse to look over the room. There were a lot of little old ladies in the room, and she didn't see anyone that might have been Amanda the Cat in her prime. Not a one of them looked as graceful as Parker had imagined the legend to be, or seemed to have that aura of cool, collected enthusiasm that Parker had fantasized about.

 

Heck, most of them were just…old. Really old. Like blue-haired grandma old. And wrinkly. She realized that Amanda'd been in the game since before she was born, but still, she couldn't imagine Amanda as a grandma.

 

"You're supposed to be on a job," Sophie muttered, picking up a glass.

 

"Job, schmob. I could have hung out with Hardison back at the van for all you guys need me for."

 

"What about backup?" Sophie said softly into her drink.

 

Parker hitched her thumb at the fireplace room. "You've got Eliot."

 

"Parker--"

 

"Come on, Sophie. Please?" She hit Sophie in the shoulder. "You just hate it that everyone gets your name confused with hers."

 

"You have no idea." Sophie sighed heavily. "Alright, fine. Go off and play. Just keep her out of the Justine collection."

 

"No problem." Parker grinned, and bounced a little on the balls of her feet as she looked left, then right. "Which one is she?"

 

"There, in the back corner, with the man in the poorly-cut suit."

 

"Her?" Parker pointed at an elderly woman in a too-short sequined black dress and matching handbag, trying not to be disappointed.

 

Sophie snorted, and pointed at a very different woman. "I don't think she's aged a day in the ten years since I met her."

 

The woman that Sophie nodded towards looked too young to be Darieux. Her hair was a gloriously fake platinum blonde, and she wore a dress to match it, with a long, flowing scarf that curled around her neck like a lover. Her body was firm and tight, and the dress shimmered and clung to her curves in a way that outlined the small rise of nipple at the front of her dress.

 

She was stunning, and Parker felt her mouth go dry. "Wow."

 

"Yeah." Sophie snorted. "Go on, and let me get back to work."

 

Parker wasn't sure how to approach her. Usually she could beg Sophie to spend some time coaching her on this stuff, but Sophie was too preoccupied with the current job to do more than flap her hands encouragingly in Parker's direction.

 

Taking a deep breath, Parker straightened her shoulders and marched herself across the room. Amanda arched an eyebrow at her, looking away from the dark-haired man she'd been speaking with. "Yes?"

 

Her voice sounded even better than Sophie's, like rich dark chocolate volcano cake. It wasn't just Parker's toes that tingled right now.

 

"I'm, ah, Parker." Parker wiped her hand on her shirt and held it out. "You're Amanda--"

 

"Yes, I am." Her mouth tilted upward in a sly smile, as she gracefully excused herself from her companion and wrapped her arm around Parker's waist. "I thought you might be here."

 

"You know about me?" Parker grinned and ducked her head.

 

"It's part of the reason I'm here." Amanda reached out, her long fingers sliding into Parker's hand. "Come on. Let's take a ride."

 

Parker glanced down at their clasped hands, and then up at Amanda's glorious, smiling face, and her throat went dry. "Sure. Where are we going?"

 

"I have a little job I need some help with, and you were my first thought."

 

"Really?"

 

"No, not really. But it sounds good, doesn't it?" She smiled, charming and sensuous, yet somehow conveying more than a hint of danger.

 

Parker didn't care what they did as long as Amanda smiled at her like that. "Yeah, sounds good to me, too," she said, smiling back.

 

She didn't spare a thought for the others.

 

###

 

Two weeks later, they'd shared more than just smiles, and Parker still didn't care what they were doing next, or where they were going. Amanda kept them both pretty busy, running the show, getting them from one job to another, and Parker was willing to go along with it and let the rest of her life stay paused. The only time she noticed time passing was when Hardison, or Eliot, or Sophie called to find out if she was dead or not. She told them something about the dog that she and Amanda had rescued, and how they'd cracked a museum vault for some old Russian jewelry this guy had demanded in trade for the sister of one of Amanda's friends. She also told them some of Amanda's weird stories about famous robberies thoughout history, like the one where these medieval terrorists tried to steal some big stone. (Hardison loved that one, and Parker liked it when he laughed.)

 

But no one had called tonight, so Parker couldn't tell them about walking along the ledge of a 40-story building and snapping onto a zip line, then catching sight of Amanda as she used the sword she insisted on carrying everywhere to lop the head off the guy who'd been planning to ship the sister to a brothel in Russia. Parker was already in motion as Amanda was struck by lightning. The sky had been completely cloudless, then zoom, sparks and lightning and some killer explosions. Before the smoke cleared, Parker was sure Amanda was dead.

 

Only she wasn't, which meant that Amanda was even more cool than Parker had ever imagined.

 

Amanda was fucking _awesome_.

 

Night sounds crept in through the open window of the cheap hotel room they'd found. Parker hated cheap rooms, but Amanda had promised a better one once she had a chance to rest, when things with the Russian guy had settled; she'd been jumpy and restless since the lightning, and her gaze kept darting around, like she was looking for a place to hide.

 

Parker figured they were lucky to have found this fleabag before Amanda fell apart. She ran one of her hands along the edge of Amanda's shirt. "You're sure you're okay?"

 

"Totally fine." Amanda looked wild tonight, her hair now a jet black, spiked and fringed in a way that framed her face. She leaned over and brushed her lips against the pulse beating in Parker's throat. Sitting back, she pulled her T-shirt off, and Parker smiled; yeah, she looked fine.

 

"You look really good." She left her fingers rub along the edge of the black lace bra Amanda wore, feeling the soft skin under her hands. Amanda had large breasts for such a small woman, and Parker got a bit of a thrill out of how large they were in comparison with her own hands. Not big like basketballs, no, but long, and round, and kinda flat, like a mound of plastic explosive.

 

They were amazing, firm and full, with nipples that crinkled up when Parker licked them through the cloth. Parker herself was built along more boyish lines, sharp angles and bony protrusions, but Amanda didn't seem to mind. She liked Parker's muscle and bone, just like Parker loved all of Amanda's curves. She ran her hand down the edge of the lace and quickly unhooked the front, revealing the hard, tight nipples and dark aureoles.

 

Eagerly, Amanda slipped the rest of the bra off, and then slipped out of her panties. She threw her leg over Parker's hips, her neat, trimmed bush pressed against Parker's plain cotton underwear. She cupped her hands over Parker's own and pressed them over her breasts.

 

Parker squeaked and flexed her hands; she'd been dying to play with Amanda's breasts, but whatever Amanda had been planning, it hadn't left a lot of time for anything other than a few kisses in a stairwell, some fully-clothed groping while they waited for the security guards to pass by them. Now she had a chance to relish them, stroke and pet and taste them the way they deserved to be enjoyed.

 

Parker spread her hands wide, taking each of Amanda's nipples between her thumb and forefinger, rolling them, letting the lovely groans and sighs Amanda made guide her. She pulled herself up enough that she could wrap her lips around the left one, taking it into her mouth and licking it, sucking it till it was firm and tight in her mouth letting her other hand play and stroke gently at the other breast; good thing they were both pretty flexible.

 

Amanda fisted her hands in Parker's hair and pressed her back into the bed, grinding down a little on Parker's thigh. "Ohhh, that's nice."

 

"I could be nicer," Parker said, and twisted the nipple that was still in her hand.

 

Amanda gasped, and grinned at her. "I know you can. But I like it a little dirty, too."

 

"Oh, good." Parker flipped her so that Amanda was sprawled underneath her. "I like playing dirty," she said, with a deliberate growl as she licked a stripe down Amanda's belly, making Amanda laugh.

 

###

 

A month later, Parker was enjoying the wonders of a five star hotel bed when Amanda's cell phone rang, waking her. Amanda made 'go back to sleep' motions as she talked, so Parker closed her eyes and settled back into warm, drowsy comfort. She heard the tiny click of the phone being set on the table, then the sound of Amanda rustling around in the room, along with the zip of luggage being opened.

 

Oh. This must be it, then. Good day for it.

 

She opened her eyes as Amanda gave her a small kiss. "I've got to go," she whispered.

 

"I'll see you around," Parker whispered back.

 

Amanda brushed the hair out of Parker's face, her gaze soft and fragile. "You will," she promised, and Parker knew she wanted to keep her promise. No one could predict the future, but if possible, at some point, Amanda would be back.

 

One final kiss, then Parker closed her eyes, and settled back into bed as the door shut.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [](http://sherrold.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**sherrold**](http://sherrold.dreamwidth.org/) and [](http://elynross.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**elynross**](http://elynross.dreamwidth.org/) for the beta. All remaining errors are my own.   
> Written for [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**kink_bingo**](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) 2009, Prompt: Nippleplay


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